


Things You Never Regret

by darksquall



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hair, Hair touching, Kink Meme, M/M, Request Meme, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksquall/pseuds/darksquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested by Delayed on the kink meme - http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11065.html?thread=24487737#t24487737</p><p>5 Times Someone Ran Their Fingers Through Bruce's Hair + 1 Time Bruce Did It To Someone Else. Exactly what it says on the tin because seriously, who can resist Bruce's fluffy, curly locks?</p><p> </p><p>Five times that Tony touched Bruce's hair, and one time that Bruce touched Tony's. Mild peril, angst, fluff, comfort, general sweetness. Some references to sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The time Tony took something out of his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I prefer the comics background for Bruce Banner rather than the movie background, hopefully I have managed to meld Comics Bruce with Avengers Bruce.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and places contained herein do not belong to me and I am making no money from this.
> 
> Thank you to Lanapanda for betaing for me.

The two of them had spent quite a while feeling their way around each other. Tony was everything that Bruce could never be in public: loud, confident, enthusiastic. So brilliant and bright that sometimes it hurt to look at him. Even then, Bruce never really stopped looking at Tony Stark, no matter how much it hurt.

In private, the show just kept going. It did slow a little, grow more gentle and just a little quieter, and in between the glorious showmanship and entertainment, he began to get to know Tony inch by inch. He began to feel as needed as he was wanted by a glorious breathtaking man who never quite knew when to stop.

So Bruce stayed and played in Tony Stark's candyland for a while. For a time, SHIELD pretended to, or perhaps really did believe that Tony had delivered him to the port authority that morning when Thor had used the power of the Tesseract to jump between worlds.

Really. How could he run away after seeing that? He and Tony had bounced ideas off of each other for _days_. SHIELD believing that little lie about his location had helped him to feel safe for a time, just in case he needed to run again and get away from the world that knew him as the monster, even if more of them were starting to believe he wasn't quite as much of a monster as even he himself did. Tony was understanding about that too. Bruce could tell he dreaded him leaving, but he was understanding.

Slowly, the urge to run faded. Little voices of doubt warned him not to get too complacent but it was hard not to enjoy the things that Tony's world of bright days and almost unlimited funding, and all the other things that it had to offer. Especially one crisp autumn morning when the sunshine was like gold trickling through the orange, red and yellow leaves. A faint breath of wind stirred the fallen ones and brought with it a bitter chill and warning of winter lurking just around the corner. They'd worked through the night on a project and Tony had suggested a cup of coffee and some fresh air while their simulations ran. It sounded like an excellent idea to him and that was how he'd found himself walking in the park, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other stuffed into his pocket to guard against the bite of the breeze. Tony had managed to find an equilibrium, something that would allow him to remain silent at Bruce's side. Sometimes, at least.

They paused to sit on a bench, enjoying the quiet of the morning. The sounds of the city were never all that far away, but he was used to that. Sometimes it was easier to deal with than absolute silence, when his own thoughts could turn against him, those voices from his own doubts and his darker moments. Bruce turned his gaze upwards to a perfectly clear blue sky, the mist of his breath curling delicately in front of him.

Then Tony touched him.

Tony had touched him before. Helped him up after a transformation, brushed their fingers together as he handed over a beaker or a sample, even clapped him on the back. So it wasn't a new thing per se. Somehow when Tony brushed his fingers through Bruce's hair it was much more intimate.

Bruce's gaze snapped to Tony, not knowing what to expect or even think.

Tony was holding a leaf between his thumb and forefinger. "Got caught in your hair," he shrugged and grinned impishly. One of the smiles that reached his eyes and was therefore that much more infectious.

"Thanks," Bruce reached up to take it from Tony, turning it in his hand. It was that perfect red gold that caught the sun like fire. He wanted to hold onto it, but he found himself drawn back into looking up at Tony. All brown eyes and boyish charm. "Here I thought it was just an excuse to touch my hair," he joked.

"Well, that too," Tony nodded, reaching over to touch a curl again. "Now that I've tried it, I'm afraid I might be addicted."

Bruce let the leaf fall from his fingers, forgotten. "Tony...," he managed before the words died in his throat. He didn't know what to say or how to react, caught off guard by Tony's gentleness, his quiet grace and just how deep his eyes seemed. "You... you can touch it anytime," he offered weakly.

"You know you're going to regret that offer, right?" he gave the boyish grin again, sliding the fingers of that gentle cautious hand into Bruce's hair. It took every ounce of control and strength not to pull away reflexively. He wanted it - he wanted to feel Tony's fingers curling through his hair.

"Somehow right now," Bruce allowed himself to tip his head towards the warmth of Tony's hand. It had been so very long since someone had touched him so tenderly. "I sincerely doubt that."


	2. The first time they kissed (and the second, and the third, and the...)

Even with Tony's admitted addiction to his hair, things between them went slowly for a while. The touches to his hair came often. Always gentle, usually as Tony passed him in the lab or when Bruce was heading to bed, Not every time, but once or twice a day, Tony's hand would slide into his hair lightly.   
Other things followed.

Tony started to touch his hand or brush past him. It was mostly innocent teasing and Bruce did like it, even if it was maddening and Bruce was starting to want more.

It came to a head one day, maybe a week or two after that first almost innocent touch. Tony brushed past him to reach for a wrench when he could just as easily have asked for it to be passed to him. As he turned back, Bruce caught him by the wrist and tugged him close, staring into Tony's eyes for a moment before giving him a brief, gentle kiss.

He'd half meant for it to be revenge for all the teasing and the touching. Those tender but all too quick moments of contact only seemed to urge his pulse to quicken and his heart to yearn for more. He'd barely kissed Tony when he realised whatever aims he'd had, they'd flown out of the window with that first touch of their lips. It was all too brief and perfect and he wanted more.

Given that Tony's next course of action was to slide his fingers into Bruce's hair and kiss him again, Bruce suspected that he wasn't the only one.

Kissing a man was... _different_. The graze of stubble, the brush of Tony's goatee were the most obvious things, but it was more than that. Cliche or not, there had been a delicacy to the women he'd kissed before. A tenderness, and gentleness. Tony was different. Heat, and need, and barely restrained strength. Something more... animal. Almost primal.

Tony broke their second kiss first, barely pulling away. His fingers were almost achingly tight in Bruce's hair for a moment before he finally loosened them. From the expression on Tony's face, Bruce assumed he wasn't the only one who'd been surprised by how intense and hot that kiss had been. "Bruce..."

"Yeah?" Bruce couldn't stop his voice from cracking, husky with lust and need. It had been a while since he'd felt that, too.

"Are you going to let me get addicted to this, too?" Tony grinned. Suddenly his expression was less wicked and more... needy. Longing. Tony combed the fingers of one hand through Bruce's hair and traced the curls at the back of Bruce's neck slowly.

Bruce wasn't sure how to answer at first. With Tony's fingers still tangled in his hair, still holding him - not tight enough that he couldn't pull away but definitely keeping him there - the biggest surprise was that he didn't want to escape. In fact, he was having a hard time remembering if anything even existed outside of that moment. "I think I already am," he admitted, quietly, and closed the distance between them for one more kiss.


	3. The time that Bruce was recovering from a spell as the Hulk.

The hand stroking his hair was... soothing. It was also the first thing he noticed as he began to wake up.

He always struggled to remember things after a spell as the Hulk. The constants returned first. His name, his date of birth, the mundane little facts that never changed. Then other things followed - where he'd been when he'd changed, for example. Where he'd been when the world had bled to green and then black. If he was lucky, if the transformation had been his choice, the reasons he'd changed would follow. Invariably that would cause him to open his eyes and survey the aftermath to figure out if the danger was completely dealt with and, in either case, what he should do next.

Today however, someone was stroking his hair and Bruce didn't _want_ to open his eyes. He could smell dust, and blood, and Tony's aftershave. He wanted to pretend for a moment longer that everything was fine and he wasn't a monster, but the blood worried him too much to allow himself that comfort for long.

"Are you hurt?" he asked softly. His throat was still raw from the hulk's roaring and threatening, and it almost hurt to talk.

"Me?" Tony's voice sounded so close, so _bright_ and vibrant that it alone would have made Bruce open his eyes if only to figure out where Tony was sitting. "Maybe a scratch or two."

Bruce looked up at Tony. His vision was too blurred in close quarters to really decipher the truth but Tony did seem a little paler than usual. The mask section of his helmet was raised and he was smiling. Grinning, really. One of the gloves was off and Tony's warm fingers were combing through Bruce's dark brown curls with a slow, satisfying pace.

"How are you feeling?"

Bruce gave a weak little shrug. How could he put into words the slow burn of his body, the crackle of pain as his muscles and nerves adjusted to being him again? How could he admit that it hurt and he wanted to stop, when Tony and the team needed that raw power and destruction? When it had saved Tony's life more times than he cared to count? "Like I need a cup of coffee?"

Tony chuckled, his fingers running through Bruce's hair again. Slow, soothing and gentle. As long as Tony kept doing that, kept comforting him so thoroughly, Bruce was sure nothing could be wrong in the world. "We can stop on the way home, if you're desperate."

"I think I can wait," Bruce smiled. "Hey, did I lose my glasses again?"

Tony shook his head, prying open a compartment on the suit - completely out of power if that was necessary - and pressing the glasses into Bruce's hand before going back to his stroking.

Bruce slipped them on, blinking up at Tony for a moment, then sitting up too quickly for his recently returned condition. Tony's hair was matted with blood. There was a smear down his cheek right at the edge of his helmet, the red indiscernible from the armor to see before he'd had the clarity from his glasses. "Tony, you're bleeding."

"Still?" he shrugged, grinning his usual devil may care grin. "Damn, I thought it'd stopped already."

"We need to get your helmet off, let me check the wound," Bruce started to reach for the manual removal mechanisms when Tony caught his hands.

"It's okay. SHIELD will be here to give us a ride in a little under three minutes if their ETA hasn't changed and we have much more important things to do," he smiled reassuringly. Tony always smiled. Tony always put on a good show in case someone noticed how much he was hurting.

"And what might that be?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"Well, if you don't kiss me right now, we might get caught."

Simply _staring_ at his sort-of lover, that wicked grin and boyish charm and every inch a flirt for a moment, Bruce couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Then he re-assessed the equation, added in the variable of Tony Stark to an already volatile mix of a new relationship reaching the first throes of passion and intensity and a pair of guys who should probably really know better than to mix business with pleasure, and gave in. He kissed Tony, trying not to get too distracted as they sometimes did, but it was hard not to get completely caught up in Tony's kisses. He pulled away at last when he heard the distant roar of a quinjet's engines further along the quay.

Even though he pulled away, Tony's hand stayed tangled in his hair, stroking, soothing, gently reassuring. "Now was that so bad?" Tony asked as the medical team entered the warehouse.

"I'll answer that when I have pants that fit again," Bruce replied.


	4. The time Tony fell asleep with his hand in Bruce’s hair.

After the latest incident and Tony's "scratches" - the worst of which had needed twelve stitches in his scalp - Bruce had brought him home. Fortunately his reputation preceded him and when he had told the medic that he would be taking Tony home, there had been pretty much no argument.

Trying to convince Tony that a concussion meant he had to rest was an infinitely more difficult task. Eventually a combination of threats (no more kissing, and definitely no more hair touching), bribery (we can curl up on the couch and run simulations while we watch movies) and outright pleading had worked, to an extent.

Bruce hated to admit it, but he'd been very grateful for the chance to slow down and enjoy a day of just Tony and himself doing very little. Even after the Chitauri incident they hadn't really been able to take any time to themselves, and definitely not since they'd started this odd little dance of teasing touches and the recent kisses. 

That first day they'd kissed had ended up with the two of them spending several hours exploring kissing between interruptions from JARVIS and the various programs they'd been running, but they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other. It had been a little... fraught, to say the least. After that, things had mellowed slightly, and they'd at least been able to control the urges some of the time.

It had only been four days since their first kiss though.

So Tony was injured and had a concussion and that was how they'd found themselves stretched out on Tony's huge couch for an entire day just enjoying a chance to do very little.

Bruce suspected no one would ever believe him if he told them the truth about it. That Tony had not only gotten too distracted by an old western movie to keep working, but he hadn't said a word for the entire thing. Only as the credits were playing did he look up with a sheepish grin and speak again. "You know you don't have to put up with my choice in movies all day. I know it's kind of weird, me liking westerns."

Bruce had just looked Tony in the eye, smiled and asked "Can we watch El Dorado next?"

It was weird in some ways, Bruce supposed. Two men so advanced in their fields, so technologically adept, still liking old western movies. That was probably how it would appear to others, but things were so black and white morally in most of that genre of movies. Both he and Tony had suffered in their lives thanks to people they should have been able to trust. Both he and Tony found refuge in the moral clarity in those movies.

Besides, Bruce would never forget the way Tony's eyes lit up when he realised that Bruce was serious and they'd found that they had another thing in common.

After a brief break for some essentials - popcorn featured heavily - they'd returned to the couch for another movie. Rather than sitting side by side this time, Tony had suggested stretching out, getting comfortable. As long as it involved Tony resting or sleeping - the entire thing about not sleeping with a concussion thing was bullshit, really he should have been sleeping from the start but Tony had to be doing something at all times or he'd think too much - Bruce had been willing to do anything, so he agreed.

The differences he'd noticed when kissing Tony were just as obvious with the.... well, it was cuddling. They were cuddling. He supposed people would find that weird too but he didn't much care any more. Especially not when they found a good position that let his head rest on Tony's chest close enough to the reactor to hear that faint hum and the fainter pulse of Tony's heartbeat behind it. A position that let him feel the hard planes of Tony's body, the heat of his skin through the tee shirt against his cheek, and still let those clever, gentle fingers work into his hair. It had become a measure of comfort for him, just as much as it had for Tony. The realisation had come to him slowly and he almost felt like an idiot for not recognising it sooner. It had been so long since someone had touched him so tenderly, so long since someone had wanted to be close to him that it made sense logically. He just wasn't expecting it. Tony had that kind of effect on people all the time though. Changing, breaking, exceeding their expectations.

The fingers stroked the same soothing path over and over. A reassuringly constant and pleasing sensation for half of the movie. Eventually they stilled, and when Bruce lifted his head just enough to see Tony's face, he realised he was asleep.

Bruce settled back down and closed his eyes. JARVIS was already under instruction to monitor Tony's status and wake them every two hours should Tony fall asleep, so he could rest with Tony for a while. As long as those fingers stayed in his hair, Bruce was sure he could sleep just about anywhere.


	5. The time in the shower. (The morning after the night before.)

He ached. He ached in a way he'd never ached before and if he was totally honest with himself, Bruce actually liked that ache. He would have been completely content to linger in bed for a few more hours but he'd let Tony coax him into moving, let Tony guide him into the shower.

If he were continuing to be honest with himself, he'd also admit that he'd needed that shower. He needed the heat and Tony's gentle hands on his back. It didn't hurt but that dull ache of muscles being forced into use faded a little with Tony's gentle treatment. "I'm still looking for the right words," Tony murmured against his ear.

"Incredible?" Bruce joked, knowing how often that word had been used in conjunction with news reports regarding his other self. "I think incredible works."

Tony chuckled, resting his forehead against Bruce's. "Okay, incredible. You're sure you're okay, right?"

Bruce smiled again, wrapping his arms loosely around Tony's waist and pulling him closer. He could get to enjoy this - the feel of Tony's wet, naked skin against his own. "What am I going to have to say to convince you? I feel good. Better than good."

"Next time, your turn," Tony winked at him and reached for the shampoo. "Close your eyes, let me get your hair for you."

"Always comes back to the hair with you," Bruce murmured, teasing. He closed his eyes anyway.

"I wanted to touch it for so long," Tony's fingers slid into Bruce's curls, working a lather into the hair slowly. His fingertips massaged Bruce's scalp as they moved, dragging a soft moan from his lips. "Besides, you did say I could touch it any time."

"Mm, and you said I'd regret it," Bruce tightened his grip on Tony, keeping him as close as possible. Part of him was wondering if he could come up with an excuse to just never let go again. Somehow he doubted that they would be going back to the lab just yet. There was even a possibility that he'd be able to coax Tony back to bed with him, just in the name of recovery, of course. Perhaps a little revisiting of previous results to confirm experimental values because he just felt so very good.

Tony coaxed him back under the spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the suds. "Did you ever get around to finally regretting it?" Tony asked. His tone was light, but Bruce had been around Tony long enough to hear that there was at least a little real concern there. The previous night had been so new to both of them, not to mention the oddness of their entire relationship given their pasts.

Bruce lifted a hand to cup the back of Tony's head gently and kissed him. Slow, gentle at first but deeper with every passing moment. He felt Tony's pulse quicken, felt his body begin to respond in tell-tale ways - Tony's libido was something that required a study all of it's own and Bruce was starting to think perhaps he was the man for the job after all - and it was only needing to breathe that forced Tony to break the kiss. When he did, Bruce leaned his forehead against Tony's and smiled. "Not even for a moment."


	6. The time Tony woke with Bruce’s hand in his hair.

It was weird seeing Tony so quiet. He never stopped moving unless they were watching a movie or he was enjoying the afterglow of an orgasm.

It was even weirder seeing him lying so very still in a SHIELD medical bay bed.

Bruce barely remembered the event as the agents had termed it, anger and fear chasing him into the transformation as Tony had passed out in his arms. Tony hadn't even had long enough to summon the suit. Bruce had held onto Tony as the world bled to green and then black and finally faded into nothing.

Bruce rarely remembered much of his time as the other guy. This was one of the rare times when the news cameras had been there from the very start and had allowed him plenty of time to review what had happened. To see the Hulk protect Tony, shielding him from further attacks and taking down any of the attackers that he could reach easily. To see him finally taking Tony to an ambulance that had arrived with a few familiar faces to coax him into complying - Hawkeye, actually, as the Hulk seemed to like him and trust him. They'd taken Tony away and the Hulk had returned to his task.

The body count had been high.

The Hulk had at least been restrained enough to let a couple of them live, if only to be sure that whoever had hurt the shiny man - as he liked to call Tony both in or out of the suit - would never try again.

It was reassuring to know that the Hulk wanted to protect Tony as much as he did.

SHIELD had taken him to a base with an extensive medical bay as it was too dangerous to fly him to the carrier in his condition. When Bruce had come back to himself, Natasha had been on hand to give him clothes and take him to Tony. She answered his questions about his lover's status and was very professional the whole time. Almost scarily so. At least she hadn’t asked any awkward questions.

From the moment they'd let him in to see Tony - he'd been the other guy for so long that Tony had gotten out of surgery and was being monitored already by the time he arrived at the unit - Bruce had only left his side long enough to grab a drink or use the bathroom. For forty-eight hours, he'd stayed with his lover almost constantly. Holding his hand, snatching sleep in the uncomfortable chair someone had positioned for him when he could, and occasionally stroking Tony's hair. It was during one of the times that Bruce was stroking Tony's hair that he finally woke up.

His long dark lashes fluttered first, and then he opened his eyes slowly, crinkling them against the all too harsh lights of the bay. When he was used to the light again, they darted around the room before resting on Bruce at last.

"Hey," Bruce gave him a genuine, warm smile. The kind of smile he knew Tony liked to see from him. It wasn't as hard as he'd thought it might be. Really, he was so relieved that his lover was finally awake again that he couldn't help smiling, even if he knew that Tony was far from being out of the woods yet. "Welcome back."

"Hey yourself," Tony said, his voice soft and weak. Almost muffled by the hiss of the oxygen that flowed through the mask that covered his nose and mouth. "Miss me?"

How was he supposed to put the previous few days into words? The long hours spent just watching Tony's chest rise and fall, glad even for that little movement, worrying the whole time that his beautiful bright light was going to fade away. "More than I have words for," he whispered at last.

Tony's gaze softened and he smiled as brightly as he could. "It's okay now; I'm okay now, right?"

"Yeah," Bruce smiled right back. "I think I might have accidentally outed us to SHIELD though. Sorry." It had to be obvious even to the most oblivious and hard-headed people by now that his interest in Tony and Tony's condition was more than just friendship. He'd had the knowing looks from Natasha and Clint. Fury had given several long suffering sighs when he'd visited and Bruce had refused to leave Tony's side even for a debriefing. Thor was still off doing whatever Asgardians did on his homeworld and Steve... Steve might not have entirely grasped the situation but Bruce didn't much care. He'd needed to stay close to Tony for his own control and his own sanity.

"They would have found out sooner or later, Bruce, no need to apologise," Tony squeezed Bruce's hand weakly. His eyes were a little feverish. Not quite Tony. Not yet anyway. "Glad the first face I get to see is yours though."

"Sure?" Bruce joked. "I'm sure I could drag Fury or someone else in here if you prefer."

"No one else looks as good as you do with the top two buttons undone," Tony gave him another watery attempt at his wicked smile and used that grip on his hand to try and tug him closer. "Should have tried kissing me awake."

"I did, sleeping beauty," Bruce moved to sit on the side of the bed, leaning down to press a kiss against Tony's cheek gently. "I think you were a little deeper than I could reach at the time though."

Tony lifted his hand to tangle in Bruce's hair, just trying to keep him close for a moment longer. Even that took a huge effort and Bruce could feel the trembling of Tony's arm. He cradled it gently, needing to feel that familiar touch just as much as Tony needed to touch him. "I'll always come back to my prince. Sorry about the... unexpected downtime."

"It wasn't your fault. Unless you hired him to shoot you," Bruce shook his head a little. Tony's fingers flexed in his hair, curling around a strand gently. So familiar, so comforting. As though he were the one who was injured and in need of some comfort. It was all too easy to lose himself in all the little touches and the few little kisses he could bestow upon Tony. Bruce just had to remind himself to keep smiling for Tony. Let him believe everything was fine; let him recover at his own pace. Well... at a pace that was appropriate. Tony's own pace would probably have him back in the suit in days.

"Should have had more security guys," Tony brushed his thumb lightly against Bruce's temple. "You're okay, though. Right?"

"I'm fine, you know me. It wasn't your fault, Tony."

Tony's weak smile returned. Not quite the real Tony yet, but close enough to soothe Bruce's worries for now. "Good. We can go home soon, I promise."

"Couple more days, then bed rest at home," Bruce guided Tony's hand from his hair gently, and held it in his lap. He had such interesting hands. Strong fingers calloused from the work he did. Bruce's fingers felt so soft and clumsy next to Tony's sometimes. No callouses - his body healed up any time he changed. Everything but his eyes and mind would be as good as new. Everything that really needed healing was left just as broken.

Except his heart. Tony had seen to that.

Tony scoffed at the idea of bed rest as soon as it was mentioned. "I mean it, Tony. I will lie on top of you if I need to keep you in bed," Bruce promised.

"I'm pretty sure it counts as cruel and unusual punishment if you turn me on right now," Tony grinned. "I guess I can hang out here for a couple of days."

"I'd be surprised if you can even physically get turned on right now. Please don't take that as a challenge." He changed the subject quickly. "The other guy at least left a couple of them alive for interrogation. Not well, but alive for interrogation." Bruce stroked a thumb over Tony's knuckles slowly, just to keep up that warmth and contact with him, keep the comfort going.

"Glad to know the big guy left us a couple of leads. More glad to know that you're okay."

"How are you feeling?"

"Mm," Tony shrugged one arm. "A little tired, a little like I'm running a fever or could use a good scotch. I could complain about other things but you kissed me and I've forgotten them." He gave Bruce his best boyish smile. Too tempting, too perfect, too teasing even with an oxygen mask in the way - it was pure Tony.

"You've been out for a couple of days. Collapsed lung, broken ribs, and the obvious. We're in a SHIELD medical centre rather than the carrier so it wouldn't stress your lungs or heart any more than they were already. Mild fever yes, and when we get home we can do something about the scotch."

Tony's grin faded a little and he lifted the sheets awkwardly to peer under them at his injuries. "Ugh. And they don't tape broken ribs any more. That will make suiting up unpleasant."

"They couldn't tape them because of the collapsed lung," Bruce shook his head, watching Tony take in his injuries. The worst of it was covered in a gauze bandage so he wouldn't be able to see the wound until it was changed, but there had been a few scratches here and there. Shrapnel as the Hulk had tried to take down targets while protecting Tony. The Hulk didn't like that Tony had gotten hurt when he was supposed to be taking care of him. It made him shift uncomfortably in the back of Bruce's head. "And don't think I missed that. No suiting up for at least a few weeks, its way too much stress on your system."

"Just to throw off the bad guys. If they see the suit, they think Iron Man is still able to kick their asses," Tony finally lowered the blankets again and lifted his gaze to Bruce's face. He looked greyer suddenly. Ashen. Tony was aware as his mortality as any man could be thanks to that little blue light in his chest, but he seemed to conveniently forget that mortality completely and constantly as soon as he was busy. He'd had yet another reminder of just how human he still was.

"No, not for a few weeks," Bruce shook his head. He couldn't risk it. If Tony went up so soon, his lung could collapse again or worse. This event had reminded him just how much Tony was at risk. "We can rig something up to fly it remotely, if you're that determined, but you can't fly yet."

"Not with all this stuff hooked up," Tony gestured at the medical equipment around him.

It was that moment that one of the nurses came in, followed by a doctor. Said doctor just screamed 'military' to a man as experienced with such things as Bruce. Regulation haircut, perfectly pressed pants and shoes that he could probably operate on if he saw fit. Bruce didn't like him much from their previous interactions but he had little choice. Tony needed help and SHIELD were the best placed to give it to him. He at least trusted them to keep Tony - one of their most valuable assets - alive and to keep their comments to a professional level with him. Once he'd told them he wasn't leaving until Tony woke up and his eyes had flashed briefly green, they'd backed off.

The doctor examined Tony, asking the usual obviously annoying questions which Tony took with aplomb. "Ow, fuck," he hissed as the doctor was less than gentle in his examination. "Yes, that hurts." It was to Tony's credit that he didn't add 'you moron' to the statement, but somehow everyone in the room heard it anyway.

With the doctor finally out of the way, the nurse glanced over at Bruce. He'd moved out of the way as soon as they'd arrived, not wanting anything, even himself to make Tony's treatment awkward, but apparently it wasn't enough. "Would you like some privacy while you're changed, Mr. Stark?"

"Yes, go away and let Dr. Banner do it."

That request was ignored, but it got the point across and the nurse didn't ask again. When Tony had new bandages, a new hospital gown and was back to lying in bed, the invaders cleared the room and Bruce returned to perching on the side of his bed.

"Well," Tony smiled. "That was... horrible."

"Another couple of days and you'll just have to put up with me doing it instead. I'll be much gentler than those guys though."

Tony looked exhausted after his little foray with the medical staff. Even though he'd only had to lie there for much of it, it had obviously tired him out. "I'm sure I'll be back to my old self in no time. Plus a few new scars."

Bruce ran his fingers through Tony's hair slowly. It comforted him when Tony did it so he saw no reason for it to not comfort Tony as well. From the way Tony's eyes flickered closed, he liked it just as much as Bruce did. "I'm sure you will, and I'll be spending all my time trying to keep you in bed."

"When have you not been able to convince me to stay in bed a little longer?" Tony took Bruce's hand again, squeezing it as firmly as he could manage. "I won't make this too much work for you, I promise."

"I don't care how much work it is. It's you - I'd do anything for you," Bruce shrugged. It still worried him when Tony talked like that. Every little affection that Bruce thought should be standard in a relationship seemed to surprise Tony, or worse, seemed completely alien to his experiences. It was alarming just how little care everyone around him had seemed to lavish on him. Bruce had no idea how that had come to pass. It was all he wanted to do. Touch Tony, hold him, do things like curl up in front of a western and let Tony know how much he was needed, wanted and loved.

Even hearing that, Tony was surprised. His expressive eyes always gave him away when he was shocked. "Some anythings are just more fun than others, that's all."

"But some anythings are necessary to get back to the fun anythings. Take the rough with the smooth," Bruce smiled.

Tony watched him, all dark eyes and still a little shocked that someone was willing to stick around even if he wasn't his usual bright and fun self. "Okay... so in the meantime, what do I have to do to bribe you to get a tablet in here for me?"

"At least a promise that you'll listen to me for the next month or so."

"I always listen to you, Bruce," Tony promised. Bruce was sure if he looked hard enough he'd seen the 'I'm so innocent' halo form right over Tony's head.

"And obey medical orders?" Bruce asked doubtfully.

"Will at least 15% of these medical orders be related to having amazing orgasms?"

Tony did not have a one track mind. There were many tracks in his mind and his train of thought would switch between them and sometimes straddle many tracks at once. What Tony had, was a one track libido. "You do know after a collapsed lung you're supposed to avoid anything strenuous for at least eight weeks, right?"

With the most wicked and most Tony smile that Bruce had seen out of him since he'd woken up, Tony shrugged. "So you'll have to be gentle with me, Doctor."

"You are completely incorrigible," Bruce sighed and shook his head. "Maybe but not for a while yet."

"Alright, but no complaining if I take matters into my own hands in the interim."

Bruce shook his head, running his hand through Tony's hair slowly once more. "I really am going to have to lie on you to keep you in bed, aren't I?"

"Well, that would be the idea."

Changing the subject was his only option. Especially with the way Tony looked at him sometimes. Bruce was sure Tony could see straight through him, work out every little thought and feeling if he chose to. Perhaps he couldn't understand everything that Bruce was feeling, but he could pick up on things that Bruce hadn't even fully comprehended yet. "What is it going to take to convince you to sleep?"

Tony actually pouted. There was a boyish mischief to his expressions at the best of times and pouting - because he was being told that he had to sleep, even if it was gentle and he definitely needed it to heal - just made it all the more entertaining. "I only just woke up."

"If you want to stay awake, fine. I was going to offer to lie down with you."

That gave his lover a whole new perspective on the idea. Bruce knew Tony slept better when he was there, close enough to hold. A hand on his hadn't had the same effect and Bruce was half sure that if he hadn't been mildly sedated, Tony would have been out of the door already. Tony reached a hand to his weakly, wanting that contact back, wanting more comfort. Bruce took it, squeezing reassuringly. "Well, that would be more restful for me, but I warn you this bed is damned uncomfortable. I think it's packed with sawdust."

Keeping Tony's hand in his for the time being, Bruce toed off his shoes and stretched out beside his lover. He coaxed Tony's arm around him and settled comfortably for both of them right there, close enough to touch and cuddle and let Tony actually get some measure of rest, not to mention himself. "I've slept on much worse," Bruce said, combing his fingers through Tony's hair one last time before he rested his head on Tony's shoulder - the uninjured side, of course. He'd slept in places exponentially worse. Not least because they'd had a sincere lack of genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.

As soon as Bruce was still, Tony was half asleep. "More comfortable now, anyway," he murmured, his hand tangling in Bruce's hair to hold him close.

Bruce closed his eyes when Tony did that. Relief, exhaustion, worry, all the things that had taken their toll over the previous days were still hanging over him and the tiredness seemed to have seeped into his bones. "Funny that," he murmured, letting everything melt away into darkness as he felt sleep dragging him down like quicksand. "When you wake up again, I'll fetch you a tablet, okay?"

"Mm," Tony hummed. Just as warm, comfortable and content as Bruce, with the added bonuses of fatigue and painkillers, Tony was out cold within seconds rather than minutes. Bruce wasn't long after him, and his last conscious thought was that Tony's hand was in his hair again.

He really didn't regret letting Tony get addicted to that at all. It was the only time Tony had been wrong, and Bruce was very glad of that.


End file.
